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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 6 months

Note

hi lovely x could you write something about you being lando’s comfort person? like he just comes to you when he’s feeling off or something is wrong and you cuddle and talk and that makes him feel better? thank you if you do xx

Just You. Only You. - LN

Complicated friends to soulmates lovers trope coming in strong.

Also just for a bit of timeline context, this is after the Qatar race weekend.

The whole race weekend felt deflating and exhausting.

When he arrives home in Monaco the apartment feels eerily empty and being there without someone there to come home to, honestly he feels hallow. He tries to ignore the attack of his own thoughts, but just having finished things in Qatar where he was incredibly hard on himself, the media and fans rip into him for simply being jealous of Oscar for the Sprint win.

He stay in his apartment just long enough to shower, change and grab a small bag of stuff before heading out. Not wanting to be surrounded by the reminders of why he feels so shitty in himself.

Heading to another part of Monaco, he finds himself at a door, pressing the buzzer. He knows y/n is there.

"Hello?"

"Hey, y/n."

There's not even a response, just the clicking of the door unlocking allowing him to get through and move to the lift. But eventually he gets up to her door which is dangerously always unlocked but since she lives in Monaco where crime isn't really an issue unless it's white collar, he guesses she doesn't care that much.

"Hey." Y/n smiles lying on the sofa. "What bring you to my humble abode?"

Usually he'd make a joke questioning just how humble her abode is. When he doesn't, she frowns then opens her arms allowing him to move and immediately move over to her. His body lies heavy on top of her.

"What wrong, Lan?" Y/n asks softly, that gentle tone that wraps him in cotton.

"The race...the whole weekend...everything." Lando lets letting out a heavy breath that unknowingly earns a frown but she doesn't let it show for long and he doesn't see it as she plays with his hair.

"You're going to be ok." Y/n whispers, her words washing over the young man who just sinks down against her. "I wish you saw yourself the way I see you. You are so amazing, I just...I really wish I could just force you to see yourself the same."

Lando's face flickers with a smile but it's only temporary.

"I'm not winning...I'm not getting the rewards everyone else that is so great is getting. Charles got two wins in his first year with Ferrari-"

"And then none for the two seasons that followed...You are too hard on yourself. You shouldn't compare yourself to others, Lando. It's not healthy."

"My entire career is based on comparing myself to others."

Y/n remains quiet making Lando feel a tug of guilt that leaves him nuzzling down into her. He loves y/n, she is the only person who makes him feel safe like this.

Their friendship is complicated because of these moments. Their time alone with each other is always like this, but when they're around others it's like these moments don't exist.

One day Lando knows he's going to marry her. It's just going to be a matter of time before he finally makes his move. But for now he'll settle for these late nights and private moments. Just for them to enjoy each other.

The soft music suddenly fills the silence and Lando smiles hearing the gentle song that so perfectly suits y/n while Lando prefers techno, you'll catch her listening to Hozier or Noah Kahan. Something that doesn't has so much of a deafening club beat.

"Can you come to the next race?" Lando asks not looking up in fear of her answer but with where his head is placed. He finds her heart thudding all of a sudden under his head. "Your heart is beating so fast. You're not about to die underneath me."

"You're such a muppet." Y/n scoffs then rubbing Lando's back. "I love coming to races with you, if you invited me more often, I'd be there all the time."

"You have an open invitation. It's you attending university that is the problem here."

"It's not a problem. You're just jealous that I'm smart enough to actually get into university." Y/n jokes then sighing. "It's Austin next isn't it?"

"Yeah, then Mexico where you're going to come join us too. And obviously Vegas! You have to come to the last race in Abu Dhabi too." Lando smiles while y/n laughs at his growing excitement.

"Sounds like my calendar is full. I'll have to inform my professors that my best friend takes priority when it comes to social life vs school grades."

"I'll compensate you for it."

"Well now I just have to accept it." Y/n giggles before she sighs. "I have to be there for my only therapy client."

"You do." Lando confirms grinning at her. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"You know you can." Y/n states before she swallows thickly then yawning as she shifts. "You have too options. Bunk in with me, or I'll see up the sofa?"

"Stupid question."

"Alright, come on." Y/n laughs patting him in gesture for him to get up.

They both get up and while she goes about her usual skincare routine, throughout which she feels Lando's eyes burning through her being all while she tries to ignore the feeling of his eyes just on her constantly.

"Come here, Casanova. We're going to give your skin some well needed attention." Y/n smiles making him get up looking genuinely excited as he jumps up from her bed and moves to sit on her drawers. Thankfully they're stable enough to not just fall over from his rapid movement.

"Why am I Casanova?" Lando asks with his eyes closed as she cleanses his face.

"Sorry?" Y/n frowns confused by the question.

"You called me Casanova, I just...I'm confused why."

"Oh...I mean you don't have any shortage of interested women. I don't even think you have to try most of the time, right?" Y/n smiles while Lando opens his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. Max has told me you've got no shame about it."

Y/n can tell she might've just undone all the comforting and mood improving. Until...

"Are you one of the interested women?"

She actually chokes on her breath and splutters for a moment looking shocked that he just came out and said it.

"We're best friends-"

"Not what I asked." Lando cuts in while she bites her lip and suddenly his ego gives him a boost of confidence. "I'm taking that as a yes."

"You're so annoying."

"Because I'm right." Lando smirks then wasting no time getting to do something that he feels he's waited far too long for. He kisses her, a smile nearly fighting him on being able to actually do it. "Fuck. I wasted so many years waiting to do this...You'll still be my personal therapist?"

"Of course I will." Y/n smiles before tilting her head a little and grinning at him. "I don't think I'd be able to live if the job passed onto someone else. But...I will have to go back to university at some point. I'm not paying for this degree to get nothing in the end."

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #norris #lando norris fanfic #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #mclaren formula 1

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star-girl69 · 3 months

Text

She Calls Me Baby

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: college au, in which you slowly realize something is wrong with your girlfriend.

a/n: love this song. had to do it sorry. anyways this sucks actual BALLS but idc i just have to write something or else i will lose my empire and title as mother of clarisse tumblr ☹️

Jackie and Wilson - Hozier

warnings: NOT BETA READ, im sure this is so discombobulated but IDC!!!!!! anyways, swearing, mentions of death and the usual demigod stuff, mentions of monsters, idk pretty chill…, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your favorite story Clarisse ever told you is the one about soulmates.

She told it to you in the dark, in her bed, hand on the side of your face as she whispered to you like you were secret lovers.

She told you that humans once had two heads and four arms, but Zeus thought they would grow to be too powerful and split them apart. Hearts split in two, detained to roam the earth, trying to find each other.

That’s how it feels with Clarisse- like you’ve known her for years, like your bodies were born of the same speck of dust, souls grew next to each other, fires inside of you burning in the same altar for a hundred years before you met.

Clarisse approached you fast- hard and unrelenting like a hurricane. She wanted whatever she could take from you, love, comfort, a one-night.

It scared her when you wanted to give.

It was kind of crazy how easily the two of you just fit together, crazy how you both liked some things, both hated things, hated something things she liked and nice versa. It was like there was this natural balance between you, everything sort of cosmically weighed out- and it just felt so right to be with her that everything else faded away.

But it was clear that Clarisse fell head over heels for you, the way she would smile and just tell you that you were so different, so much better than her. You were everything she wasn’t, and she resented you so much for it she loved you.

You weren’t exactly sure why Clarisse loved you so much- maybe it was the way you respect her past, maybe it was the way you didn’t push- you just accepted the crazy and tried your best to save her with what little information you did have. It surprised her and you when you became the one to get greedy, to take from her, but you knew she loved the feeling of being wanted.

But lately, Clarisse has been particularly… off. It’s not exam season, so you can’t chalk it up to that. And she’s the most talented player on the field hockey team, you’ve seen her play- she’s overconfident and for good reason. She has no reason to be stressed there, unless somethings changed.

But something tells you it’s not that.

The first real concrete clue you ever got was when you first met her.

The library is where you met Clarisse. The one closest to your dorm hall, the one that’s two floors and built like an out-of-place Greek temple- it always makes you smile when Clarisse gives it a dirty look, trying to persuade you to go to any other library. It doesn’t make sense to you- why go to the one all the way across campus when this one is only a five minute walk?

She always seems on edge when she meets you in here, but she bites it back and won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. She says it’s just a weird thing she has, hard to explain, so you let it go when she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she smiles, pulling out the chair next to you. She glances around the library, not nervously, but observant. Ready, waiting. She’s always been able to do that- scan an entire room in seconds and find out everything.

“Hi,” you smile, stretching as you push your books away from you, grateful for the distraction her brown eyes and sweet voice provide.

She picks up a textbook you’ve pushed off to the side. She scoffs at the title, mumbling about how she still doesn’t know why you would choose the major you did.

“How was practice?” you ask, choosing to ignore her remarks in favor of soaking up her attention and the much needed distraction.

“Boring,” she hums, rubbing her foot up and down your leg, head in her hands. “Freshmen are pissin’ me off, they don’t know shit. Coach has to teach them all the basics over again.”

You lay your head on a thick textbook, staring up at her. “The freshmen are always shitty. Then you love them by the end of the year.”

“I don’t,” she huffs, but some of her favorite members of the team are the freshmen she hated her sophomore year. “Whatever. It’s different, they all suck. Shouldn’t be here.”

“Sure,” you say, yawning again.

“Okay, did you not sleep last night?” she chuckles.

You shrug sheepishly, Clarisse is always so adamant you sleep and eat enough, but sometimes you have to sacrifice the little things for your grades.

“I had a test this morning, stayed up a little later cramming.”

“Uh-huh, so, like, until 1 in the morning? Worse?”

You hold your breath, sitting up as you conveniently look away from her. “3,” you exhale.

She smiles and puts a piece of hair behind your ear.

“But,” you smile, sensing the lecture. “After these five questions, I can be all yours for the rest of the day.”

She pretends to weigh her options.

“Well, I do like the sound of that.”

—-

The second clue is the way she always seems like she’s running away from something.

Your rooms are blessedly only a few doors down from each other, so someone is always sneaking into someone else’s and your roommates have both learned to deal with it.

Silena, Clarisse’s roommate, only greets you with a smile as you sheepishly slip past her in the mornings- Clarisse’s shirt haphazardly slipped over you.

So, on this day, you’re slumped in bed while Clarisse promises to take care of you, and you’re all too happy to let her.

She’s already spent the last hour lying with you in bed, letting you sleep on top of her- forcing you to catch up on some much needed hours of rest with her soft voice in your ear and hand trailing up your back.

She only got up when you mentioned you were hungry, immediately suggesting the idea of ordering from your favorite restaurant, refusing to be swayed by you back into your warm bed.

So, here you were, scrolling on your phone while you waited for the click of the door and the smell of hot food. And it comes, you prepare to make some quip about how dare she leaves you for almost a half hour.

Her keys jangle in her hands as she quickly shuts the door, turning around and pressing her back against it. She breathes out, heavily, before her eyes meet yours and she studies the shocked and confused look on your face.

“Ran up the stairs,” she smiles, leaving her keys and wallet on top of your dresser, dropping the bag of food on your bed before she goes to the window, peeking out of it. “Didn’t want my princess waiting for too long,” she chuckles.

You don’t even look at the bag of food in front of you. You reach out and grab her hand, and she flinches, but pulls away from the window and into your touch.

“Clarisse,” you breathe, and panic flashes in her eyes as she quickly rips open the bag.

“C’mon, don’t let it get cold.”

“Clar… baby,”

“Wanna watch a movie? Or play a game? Anything you want, sweetheart, jus’ say the word.”

—-

The third clue is the fact that you’re 99% sure she’s seeing things.

It sounds horrible to say, and sometimes late at night when she’s asleep against you, you wonder what the hell you’re supposed to do. You’ve only met her mom a few times, never met her father- Silena and her have been friends for years, but you still feel like it all falls to you.

It doesn’t, legally, maybe not even morally- but she’s your girlfriend. You should know what she wants, you should be able to advocate for her when she can’t.

So, the best thing you can think to do it ignore it. You pretend it doesn’t concern you, you pretend you don’t see it, you pretend because you can’t even think about the idea of her not being her, of her being away from you.

You focus on the moment.

You love these walks with Clarisse, her hand warm in yours. It was moments like these where you felt like Clarisse was your sun. Yes, the setting sun was warm against your back, but nothing made you feel alive like Clarisse did. Your hands swing together, hitting your hip, and she seamlessly switches from your hand to wrapping at arm around your waist.

You smile at her, cheeks hot. You go to adjust your bag as a means of distracting yourself, but your hand awkwardly ends up floating in the air when you realize Clarisse took your bag when she picked you up from your last class.

As if sensing the awkwardness, she hikes the tote bag farther up her shoulder.

“What’re your plans today, pretty girl?”

You hum, feeling so at ease with the way she calls you that pet name, with the way she squeezes you closer to her.

“Well, I finished my big project yesterday, don’t really have anything else to do, so I was just gonna chill. What ‘bout you?”

“Ugh,” she groans. “I have practice until 8. But I’ll come over after? And spend the night?”

You smile, laughing softly.

“I don’t know why you even ask anymore.”

“It’s polite,” she smiles. “I’m a very polite person, only when it comes to you.”

“I’ll see you at 8:15, huh?”

“Obviously,” she huffs, kissing your temple. Again, you feel like cheeks heat like this is the first day you met her. It’s embarrassing to be affected by her so much, but it’s also so sweet. Only she can draw out these reactions from you, this potent all these months later. It still feels like the first day with her sometimes, but you also feel like you’ve known her for years.

She bites her lip and hisses a curse word under her breath.

“What?” you ask, snapped out of the way she holds you so perfectly, following her eye line. She stares firmly in between two cars, but there’s nothing there.

“Nothing,” she says, not taking her eyes away from that spot- not even blinking, you realize after a second. She hides the way she gets, that unrelenting focus like when she’s playing in a game, with a laugh.

“Thought I saw that bitch from my 11am.” You look at her. You don’t believe her. She knows you don’t. And it breaks your heart that something is clearly happening, and you can’t force yourself to feel bad for ignoring it, and you can’t force her to tell you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

She moves to hold your hand and drags you off forcefully toward the direction of the entrance. She squints, almost like she’s driving off something with her mind.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, squeezing her hand, feeling unsettled just by the way she’s so clearly ready for a fight. It’s like she can see something you can’t.

She risks a small glance at you, a normal looking smile.

“It’s all good, baby. I’ve got you,” she smiles, reaching back like she’s stretching, but something where there’s nothing glints in the sunlight.

—-

The fourth clue is the fight with Silena.

She asked you to meet her at her dorm, wear something nice and pretty, and you’ll go out for a nice dinner and some ice cream. She’s been so busy with practice lately, it makes your entire body squeeze the way she jumps to spend time with you at the first off day she gets.

You smooth down your pretty top, the one you know you look good in, the one you know she likes. You’re about to knock on the door when you realize it’s been left open, just a crack. That’s when their voices rise, enough so you can hear them.

“It different now, Clar!”

“It’s. Not. It’s not different, it will never be different, nothing will ever change.”

“Before, Clarisse, when you told me you had this crush on the girl in your econ class, I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t care. But, Gods, Clarisse, anyone can see it’s different. She’s not just some girl, she’s your girl, your girlfriend, and you’re totally in love with her.”

“I know that,” she huffs. “I’m the one who’s actually in love with her. I love her, and I know her. I know what’s best for her.”

“And she’s in love with you too, Clarisse.”

She laughs. “I would hope so.”

“It’s different, Clarisse. It’s been different for a while, and I didn’t say anything because I thought you would notice. But you haven’t.”

“Fuck, Silena, please. Please, just stop. I’m not puttin’ her through that. I’m not putting myself through that again. I’m not that girl anymore. I am not my father’s daughter.”

“It never goes away, Clar.”

Silena’s voice is quiet, hesitant. Clarisse has confessed to you her struggles with her emotions all her life, particularly anger. Half the reason her mother sent her to that camp she always talks about was because she had such bad anger issues. But she worked through them, and you know she’s different now, she has healthy outlets and ways to cope.

But still, Silena seems scared.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You hear her walking towards you and quickly step back, smoothing your face out into a blank slate, tempted to hit yourself in the head to forget what you just heard.

The door swings open, and she smiles immediately when she sees you.

“Y/N,” she says, sticking her keys into her pocket. You force yourself to do your best smile. “Oh, baby, you look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you smile, letting her wrap her arms around you, letting her press a soft kiss against your lips.

—-

Clarisse made you laugh all night, made you smile, made you wonder how you ever got this far in life without her. She paid for your dinner and ushered you out of the restaurant, chuckling about how you drove her crazy and she just wanted you now-

Until she walked you to your car, opened the passenger door for you- suddenly shoving you inside and pushing the door softly closed, as much as she could get it with your foot still hanging out.

“Clarisse!” you shout, but she’s already appeared in the driver’s seat next to you, ushering you inside, reaching over and shutting the car door. She locks them with a satisfying click, finally letting her shoulder’s sink down. “What the fuck?” you huff.

“Sorry,” she smiles, hands squeezing the steering wheel. “It was the weirdest thing, a squirrel ran right over my foot, I got so freaked out…” she smiles, forces a laugh, but you only look at her unimpressed.

“Clarisse,” you sigh, letting your hands fall to your sides in defeat. “What’s going on? Please?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it.

“Just let me drive home,” she had said, and now you’re home, leading her into your dorm and she presses her back against the door.

You put your hands on her shoulders and she puts hers on your hips, she can’t look at you and you do your best to meet her eyes.

“Clarisse,” you say, a silent beg that all your suspicions are wrong, and everything and fine and she still loves you, she’s still your girlfriend.

“I’m not ready to tell you,” she rushes out. Her fingertips dig into your skin. “I’m not ready, okay? I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“T-that’s okay,” you say after a moment. “It’s okay. I just… you can tell me, when you’re ready. I’m just scared, I don’t know why this is happening, you’re being so different-”

She hugs you and puts her face into your neck.

“Please, Y/N,” she breathes, shaky breath tickling your neck. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything, just let that be enough, please.”

You hugs you quick and hard, and you’re so shocked by it that you almost take a step back. But you can’t, really, not with her arms so tight, so right around you. And once you realize it’s just your Clarisse, you coo softly and put your hand in her hair, the other around her shoulders.

“Of course it’s enough, baby. Of course, I just want you to know that I’m here… I’m here…”

You run your hand through her hair and she exhales.

“I know, I know it’s not perfect, but you’re all I have. You’re all I have, Y/N, just be here with me, please.”

“I will,” you breathe. “I will.”

Your mind is swirling with more questions than answers, but Clarisse asks you to call her baby again and leads you to your bed. And you do, you call her baby and tell her you love her.

And the realization comes slowly, but once it comes it feels so right.

You don’t know what’s going on with Clarisse. All you have are incoherent clues strung together, but you realize you don’t care. You love Clarisse more than you’re scared of a little crazy.

And you tell her that as she lays on top of you, and she simply takes her face out of your neck, the faintest hint of tears welling in her eyes.

“I love you crazy, baby,” you murmur.

She smiles, and you feel like you’re being sucked into the eye of a hurricane.

She lets out a soft breath, like she was scared, so scared- and you’re not sure she’s ever been scared before. But she’s scared of losing you. She’s scared of losing you, and that makes you giddy like a schoolgirl. That makes you love her even more.

“I’m a lot of crazy,” she says, and you can’t tell if she’s joking, but you laugh. You laugh like a hyena, because you love her more than you love yourself.

You want to be the harbor she comes back to each night, you want to be the pillow where she rests her head. You want to be a vault for her secrets and her love. You want to be everything for her and you want to be everything to her.

You don’t believe in Greek myths, but maybe that one about soulmates was right.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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f-arelos · 3 months

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soulmates (derogatory)

wuthering heights - emily brontë / bones and all (2022) / from eden - hozier / daisy jones & the six - taylor jenkins reid / daisy jones & the six (2023) / @ruhlare / cowboy like me - taylor swift / the perfect pair - beabadoobee / one hundred love sonnets: XVII - pablo neruda (tr. mark eisner) / where's my love? - syml / 10 things i hate about you (1999) / people like me, people like you - bane's world / jackie and wilson - hozier / hiroshima mon amour (1959)

#ignoore the djats brainrot i still see them in everything #web weaving #emily bronte #wuthering heights #bones and all #daisy jones and the six #djats #daisybilly #hozier #taylor swift #10 things i hate about you #beabadoobee #bane's world #poetry #pablo neruda #hiroshima mon amour #marguerite duras

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im-just-a-peach · 1 year

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So are we just going to sleep on the fact that Mr. Take Me to Church really went ahead and took us all to Church at the end of All Things End or what??

#hozier #hozier is my soulmate #hozier fandom #all things end #eat your your lp #humor #tumblr

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berzahoes · 5 months

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sing a song for you | tom blyth

summary: reader is on tour with hozier as his opening act and debuts a new song that tom helped write

an: yes this was because i am listening to hozier right now.

tom had taken some time off from doing interviews to finally attend one of your shows, well your opening act since you were on tour with one of your favorite artists, hozier. thankfully the show was near his brooklyn apartment so he didn’t have to drive far. he messaged you a couple of times but he knew you wouldn’t respond since you were busy preparing for the show.

when it was finally time to leave, tom made sure his apartment was locked and drove to the venue. as he parked his car, he quickly texted the cast group chat that he had arrived since rachel, josh and hunter were also attending. rachel texted back saying they were getting merch and that she had bought him one of your shirts.

before he could put his phone away, you called. “hey, i just arrived. rachel, josh and hunter are getting shirts.” he spoke into the phone.

“i could’ve given them free shirts. remind me to send them stuff later. sorry i didn’t text back. i just had the best conversation with beth about fleabag.” beth was your best friend and also your guitarist.

“you will take any opportunity to talk about fleabag and i love it.” tom smiled as he walked to the venue. he saw multiple people wearing homemade and official merchandise with your lyrics or logo and it made him happy.

“so i actually have a really important question.” you said.

“yes, love?”

“remember the song we made when you were filming billy the kid? i talked with the record label and it’s going on the next album,” you continue. “but i want to sing it tonight and the band said it was okay. and i want to ask you permission if it’s okay for me to sing it.”

“love, it’s your song. you don’t have to ask.” tom chuckled.

“yeah, but this song is half you half me. you’re getting writing credits on album, not just the song, tom. you helped a lot.” you reply.

“so does this mean if you win a grammy for the album, i will too?” he teased. “sing our song, i would be honored to hear you sing our song for the first time.”

“i love you.” you said then hung up.

“hello all of you lovely people!” you spoke into the microphone. the crowd cheered, tom being one of the many people that yelled the loudest. “you’ve been such a great crowd that i thought it would be a good time to sing a song that has never been heard by anyone other than me and the love of my life. he’s here tonight by the way along with our friends.”

you could feel yourself blush as tom yelled “i love you!”

“i love you more,” you replied. “he and i wrote this song in a day on the set of his show. thank you for being such a great crowd and i hope you all love this song as much as i loved writing it with my husband.” you smiled. you and tom would often call each other husband and wife even though you weren’t legally married. it was just a habit.

“that’s my wife!” tom yelled. rachel had gotten her phone out to record the performance and, of course, tom’s reaction.

watching the video that you sent me. the one where you’re showering with wet hair dripping

tom was amazed at your talent. he looked around the venue and saw how everyone was so focused on you. he then started to mumble the lyrics. he liked how you two were the only ones who knew the lyrics. it was your special moment. rachel had turned the camera from you to tom and noticed how in love tom looked. it was clear that you and tom were soulmates.

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #billy the kid #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #singer!reader

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starrysvn · 6 months

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angel | park seonghwa

pairing: fem!reader x non idol!park seonghwa

genre: soulmate au

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of food, fluff

playlist: inception - ateez, francesca - hozier, unknown/nth - hozier

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happiest birthday to my lovely star bai @hwaightme , i love you more than words can say <3 i hope today has been filled with nothing but happiness and laughter and love. thank you for being a precious friend and my partner in delulu. ilysm, sending the biggest warmest hugs <33333 please enjoy this delulu frankenstein

masterlist | navi

“Are you quite sure we should be doing this?”

The night was drawing to an end, and so was your wit. You could no longer stand to be in the suffocating ballroom, the amount of people spinning around was making you dizzy to the point of nausea. That was when he offered you a way out, seeing you struggle to maintain composure while sitting all alone.

“Absolutely not,” you heard the smirk in his voice while he led you out to the garden, sure you were following after him.

“How irresponsible of you to draw a young lady away to a dark secluded corner of a garden,” he laughed. “Should I be fearing for my life?”

When he stopped walking you almost ran into him, looking around to see you standing in the heart of the English Garden of the palace. During the night it was almost dreadful, as opposed to its beauty in the daytime, if it weren’t for the few scattered lights.

“Not at all,” he turned, but you couldn’t see his face. The thought confused you only for a second, for you knew this man. You trusted him with your life. He reached for your hand, holding it in his warmer one. “Not long, now.”

“Not long,” you whispered back, your surroundings slowly fading as he pressed his lips to yours.

Sometimes it was more than just a dream, you could feel it in your bones. It lingered during the day, the unshakable conviction that it was all true. That it had been true. It could not have been just your mind making up the ballroom dancing, whispered poems and a soft piano echoing during a sunny afternoon. So you wrote it all down in letters you kept under your bed. Most times the dreams had already escaped your memory, so all there was were jumbled thoughts scribbled quickly before even those could fade away. Other times, you woke up in the middle of the night, so convinced you were still there, still surrounded by warmth and love you never dared imagine could exist. Your hand blindly reached for the notebook you kept on your nightstand, chasing after the vivid imagery in your head.

The words you kept closer to your heart were the ones he whispered one night, you could hear vivid chatter from somewhere far away and the evening breeze making goosebumps erupt on your skin. But he was there, standing tall and faceless beside you, his hand guiding yours to his lips.

“Farewell, my angel,” he had whispered against your knuckles before you woke up.

In shades of dark and moonlight, you waited for the distinct feeling of the lingering feather-like kiss to vanish, both hoping it would and wishing it wouldn’t. Alone in your bed you hesitated to turn and reach for the notebook like you usually would; you had the feeling you could never forget the way his voice spoke the words that made every hair stand on ends.

And you never did, for each night you would be in his company in dreamland and, each night, he would call you his angel. He showed you a world of colors, of hushed whispers in the dark, a warm murmur by your ear as he enveloped you in his arms. It was all you ever wished to hear in the daylight rather than just inside your head.

It was another day waking up itching to know more, wanting to know if you were going insane or if this was the twisted way in which fate had decided to assign you your soulmate. All you had ever had were dreams that made no sense, yet gave you hope. Even when you did not know where to start, if to even dare at all.

There was little you could do, really, except live in a dream. Because even as you made your way down a busy street, en route to work, chopped away whatever you needed for lunch or dinner, every other thought was stuck on him. This illusion of a perfect man who faded as moonlight gave way to another day. Sometimes it felt so real that it was hard to discern from reality itself. The phantom brush of a hand, the faint memory of a scribbled note, of his contagious laughter. It was as if you could hear them, as if they refused to go and stay where they belonged.

But you couldn’t live in a dream, could you? You could hold out for however long it took, but you could not give up life in the meantime.

“I swear, just trust me!” Your colleague would not give up. The constant nagging had become almost unbearable, so much so that it made you want to give in. “One date and if it sucks, I’ll leave you alone forever, I pinky promise.”

The copier rapidly dished out the papers you needed to bring back to your desk, giving you the perfect excuse not to look up at San. You sighed, he had been on a mission to get you to go out with this guy for a while now. He swore up and down that you two were destined, but you usually were able to dissuade your colleague pretty fast. Not today, it seemed.

“Listen,” busying yourself counting the copies, you won another few short seconds before the time came to face San’s begging eyes. “Just one coffee?”

“Please, please, believe me you guys would be perfect togeth- hold up,” smile opening up on his lips, eyes shiny and wide, San almost did a double take. “Are you saying yes?”

Sighing again, you fiddled with the top corner of your papers - that you were now hugging to your chest - before nodding.

“One date,” you agreed, holding up your pointer finger right in front of his face. “And you have to stay near in case he’s weird and I need to escape.”

Proud of the conditions you laid down, you watched as San furiously nodded along, albeit a little offended that you’d think I’d set you up with some random weirdo. Thus, he ran back to his desk, murmuring about texting his friend. You let out one last sigh before returning to your station, too.

You hoped you’d made the right choice.

The first hints of autumn were making themselves known, a cooler breeze than usual surprising you as it caressed your face upon walking out the glass doors, the sun already on its way to set. You hid your face a little further into the scarf around your neck, walking out of your workplace beside San.

It had been a week since you gave into his pleading and he’d been very secretive about the infamous date. You were starting to worry. Maybe his friend had said no? Or was he planning something elaborate? Was he not saying anything because, really, this friend of his truly was just some weirdo?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by San himself, catching him wave and say something along the lines of there he is. He quickly found your elbow, gently hitting it with his, snapping you back to reality. You barely caught any detail of the man walking towards the two of you.

“Alright, that is the friend I was telling you about,” your head snapped into San’s direction, eyes wide as saucers. “Looks like you’re going on a date.”

Your friend was smiling his Cheshire grin, making you want to wipe it clean off his face.

“Choi San, this is an ambush!” You yelped, alarmed by his quiet giggling and eyebrow wiggling. “High treason even, could you not warn me at least-”

“Hi.”

Stood there, wrapped in a warm looking coat, was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. His smile was timid but friendly and his eyes were just as bright and warm, reflecting the lights from the lamppost. A few strands of wavy, chocolate hair fell delicately just above them.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys now, have fun!”

Oh, you were going to kill San.

“Hi,” you greeted, eyes leaving the retreating figure of your friend to focus back on the man in front of you.

“I’m Seonghwa, San’s friend,” he smiled again, melting your heart a little just by the sound of his voice. “It’s nice to meet you and I apologize for the suddenness of this all… it appears he didn’t need help with document boxes after all.”

“He sure didn’t,” you tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice, for it was San’s brilliant planning that landed you here, not his friend’s. So, you introduced yourself as well, suggesting to go to your favorite cafè just around the corner and trying to take the surprise blind date in stride.

“It’s the only place I could think of,” you said, almost apologetic as you sat down. Truth was, the little hole in the wall cafè was special to you. It housed memories of tranquil mornings where you got there early enough to sit down for a coffee before work, joyous lunches with friends to celebrate achievements, quiet afternoons spent in the company of your favorite books. Your feet had taken you here on auto-pilot.

“It’s lovely,” his smile could melt snow, you figured right then and there, after he’d looked around with curious eyes to the unique decor and shelves of literature, poems and papers.

Seonghwa was just as San had described him, after all. He made sure to open the door for you as you entered the cafè, he asked your order so he could go up to the register while you found a table you liked and even offered to pay. He was charming and a great listener, and he had managed to make you laugh until tears pooled in your eyes. It was so warm to be around him, easy to talk to as if you’d known him your whole life, almost as perfect as two puzzle pieces fitting together.

When it was time to leave you almost didn’t want to. You wanted to stay there with him and keep talking, keep sharing your interests and favorites, exist inside the cozy bubble that had formed around you two. So, with the promise of another date and Seonghwa insisting to at least walk you to the nearest bus stop, you went home.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, taking you by surprise when he dipped down to land a kiss on your cheek before you could get on the bus. It stayed with you, making you feel like a teenager all over again.

You went through the motions of preparing dinner and getting ready for bed as if floating on a cloud, barely believing you had it in you to feel so light. And if, while laying down on your bed with the lights off, you had felt so full of hope for something good, happiness and giddiness enough to make you giggle to yourself, then you woke up the following morning as empty as ever. A foreign hollow in your chest, that you had trouble identifying, was steadily painting everything gray, from the breakfast you made to the commute home. It was only then, sitting on the bus staring out to the traffic, that you realized you hadn’t dreamt of him that night. For the first night ever, you weren’t chasing after his fading figure.

Each night you went to bed hoping to hear his voice and see on which adventure sleep would take you. Then, each morning you woke up well rested and clear-headed: no more piecing together the fragments of dreams you couldn’t remember, no more trying hard to see the face of the man that made you feel loved. Months of empty nights went by until, with time, you even forgot to remember him unless you stumbled upon your notebook.

“You seem quiet today,” Seonghwa piped up, still browsing through the vinyls in front of him.

“I was just thinking,” you shrugged, making your way over to him and taking his hand in yours. His smile, soft and contagious, made your heart flutter. Still focused on his search, now led with one hand only, he intertwined your fingers. It was at times like these, when he would kiss the back of your hand, that you wondered.

“About what?”

Finally, he looked at you, eyes bright and welcoming and saying what his words hid: you can tell me anything. You just shook your head, smiling back at him, shrugging as if the wandering thought didn’t lie heavy on your head whenever it knocked on the doors of your consciousness.

“Alright, then, I have a surprise for you,” he pulled you away from the vinyl stand, almost as giddy as you felt, and into the busier paths of the market. Under string lights that festively shone, between the other passersby, it was easy to feel like you were the only two people in the world. That’s how Seonghwa made you feel; in his presence, living life was easier. If he was holding your hand, you were sure you could face any hurdles that may come. It was a feeling so real that you could almost taste it in his sweet kisses, his loving embrace, and no longer only dream of.

As he dragged you - arm lazily thrown on your shoulders or hand on the small of your back if too many people forced you two to walk in line - remnant, persisting memories almost made you dizzy with deja vu. His hand squeezing yours to make sure you were still following, to tell you he was still there, his voice pointing out whatever caught his attention as you passed by, the wintry breeze and the cacophony of voices, laughs, faraway music surrounding you.

“Here we are,” you almost bumped into his back when he stopped and stood facing the cafè that held the memory of your first date.

“It’s closed,” you pointed out, hearing his chuckle shortly after.

“Good thing I’ve got the keys,” he jingled them in the space between the two of you, a proud smile on his lips. You cocked your head to the side, brows furrowed.

“You’ll see.”

Seonghwa made quick work of opening up and leading you in, turning on the softer lights, leaving the sign on “closed”. As if on autopilot, you wandered around the room to the one table that had caught your eye. On it, laid few of your favorite pastries and pictures of you together, a colorful bouquet in the middle.

“Seonghwa… what’s all this?”

“Happy birthday,” his arms embraced you, bringing you to rest your back against his chest, holding you close. Speechless, you turned around in his hold, ready to speak but the words wouldn’t come. “I know you said you were working and were probably going to go home and do something on the weekend, but I didn’t want to just text you happy birthday and go about my day. Today is your day and you’re very special to me and I wanted to do something to wish you-”

You kissed him - interrupting his rambling and pulling him closer - gently like his arms were around your waist, warm like your cheeks and slow as if you had all the time in the world.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, hands still playing with soft strands of his hair. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he pecked your lips once again before sliding away from you and pulling out the chair for you to sit. As he did, another confused memory swirled in your head. You pushed it away. Sitting in front of you, Seonghwa asked about your day and let you ramble on and on, so you asked about his, too. He left his hand out on the table for you to hold, so you did, not missing the way he quickly hid a smile after you intertwined your fingers. Whenever he was close to you, Seonghwa wondered if you could tell how furiously his heart was beating in his chest; be it by brushing your finger against his pulse or resting your head against it.

When he deemed dinner over, he pulled out of its box a little cake and stuck a candle right in the middle of it for you to blow out - only after he’d sang happy birthday to you. Seonghwa found the way you covered your blushing cheeks with your hands the most adorable thing you could ever do. He seemed antsy, itching even, to give you your present, though. So you pushed the platter with your slice of cake aside.

“You could’ve finished,” he pouted, making you laugh over the rustling of a paper bag.

“You looked like you were about to explode, Hwa,” you accepted his present, wrapped pristine and precise, insisting that he didn’t have to. He kept on saying he wanted to (and also, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?).

A smile so bright it rivaled the sun opened up on your lips, seeing the art cover of your favorite artist’s album peeking from the torn wrapping paper.

“Is this why you were hogging the stand earlier?” You beamed at him, who sat with wide eyes hanging by your every word. You could tell his leg was bouncing.

“I couldn’t have you buy it when I got it for you,” he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his you’d noticed, with a sheepish smile. You stood and, on the way to the record player of the shop, you kissed his cheek, murmuring a soft thank you. It was a look you wished to forever have engraved in your mind, the one he gave you when you offered him your hand to take, asking if you could have this dance.

Seonghwa stood as if in a trance, nodding his head, only for you to guide him where less tables were. He pulled you close once again, slowly swaying to the beat of his fluttering heart or the music, he wasn’t sure. Time and time again he’d asked himself, in his time with you, how could he have been so lucky to meet you. To somehow hold your attention for long enough to make you see him, care for him. For you to want him to be this close to you. He hoped you’d allow him to be forever.

He twirled you around and waited for you to land back in his arms, feeling as dizzy as he often was when you found yourself there.

“Thank you,” you whispered, cheek resting against his chest.

“Please, don’t thank me, my angel,” he whispered back, freezing time.

The first time he’d called you angel, your heart had leapt from you. And yet, it wasn’t then and there, but back in your dreams. You didn’t know whether you were breathing still, all you knew was that when you looked up, Seonghwa was already searching for your eyes.

“Say that again,” your voice was barely above a whisper, just as fragile as a piece of glass.

“My angel,” his was too, broken by emotion and you had a feeling you knew just why. Seonghwa’s hands came to cup your cheeks, eyes drinking you in as if it were the first time. Perhaps it was, because you were looking at him like you finally found who you had been looking for. Like you could finally see the face that had populated your dreams.

“It’s you,” it sounded crazy, absolutely mad to say something like that, but when he nodded back with unshed tears in his eyes, you knew. Seonghwa’s arms were quick to hug you to him once more, holding close like he never had before. Both your figures were shaken by sobs, but your hearts were being mended. Behind your eyelids, scenes of you through time played; all your dreams finally making sense as memories of past lives spent together, consumed by a love so fierce that it found you in every life.

“I can’t believe I found you again,” Seonghwa whispered as your sobs died down. He was still holding you, in the middle of the cafè while the music played, as if he were afraid you’d vanish.

“I can,” you sniffled. “I dreamed of you for so long, I should’ve known…”

“I thought I was going out of my mind,” his watery laugh pulled a chuckle out of you. “I longed for the day I’d see you again.”The record had gone quieter, maybe because there was only so little you could focus on when you finally were in the arms of your soulmate. There was no need for words, not now. Not when you could feel the love pouring out of your fingertips. Not when Seonghwa was placing kisses on the tears running down your cheeks, your temples, your forehead, your lips. Not when his whispered my angel made up for the time you’d spent apart. All this running around in circles every night, chasing after figments of what you thought could only be your imagination had finally brought him to you. You both laughed at destiny for making you dream for so long, secure in the newfound conviction that you’d be together no matter where it brought you.

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